13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.

415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.

Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…

960 As plan for Noon and plan for Nig… So differ Life and Death In positive Prospective— The Foot upon the Earth

Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.

266 This—is the land—the Sunset washe… These—are the Banks of the Yellow… Where it rose—or whither it rushes… These—are the Western Mystery!

444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—

213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?

XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.

742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—

432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live